


I Dreamed A Dream

by Lorelai3



Series: A Dream I Dreamed [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Orphan Stiles, Prostitution, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorelai3/pseuds/Lorelai3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hasn't had an easy life, jumping from orphanage to foster home and back again. Things get worse when he's kicked out, forced to revert to a life at the lowest. He finds friendship in another boy of the same situation Danny. But when Danny cant protect him he finds safety in a stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Dreamed A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> The only sterek is right at the end but I will be making a second part. This is mainly Stiles' story, and he isn't romantically involved with Danny but he looks out for Stiles. You can tell I've been watching Les Miserable x o x

Stiles was only 12 when his parents died, drunk driver drove them off the road, his form of revenge against Stiles’ Dad for putting his brother behind bars. That was the last of the Stilinski family, just Stiles now. His best friend Scott begged him Mom to adopt Stiles, she was up for it but sadly she lost her case. Stiles was forced to go from foster home to foster home, orphanage to orphanage and yet he never found anyone else who wanted him. He was sixteen now, living in a crappy foster home with six other kids, all of which hated him and two of which he hated himself. Johnny and Mark, two jocks who thought Stiles was a toy. 

“Come on you like sucking dick”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he continued to fold laundry, “That’s not the point. Just because I like boys doesn’t mean I’m going to give blowjobs on request.”

He picked up the towels and left, he was sick of this place but at least it was a roof over his head. That was until the head of the house Arnold stormed into his room that night bright red and angry. He grabbed Stiles by the scruff of the neck and dragged him down the stairs, not talking or explaining, simply grunting under his breath. He pulled open the door and flung Stiles into the street, landing against the cold paving stones on his back. “Dude what the hell?”

“I’ve heard what you’ve been doing! Offer to do disgusting things for out Mark and Johnny, filthy little bastard!” 

That was all he said as he slammed the door, Stiles rushing to his feet as he ran to the door, locked. He continued to bang on the door hoping he would answer of that the guy would at least tell the truth. “Please they asked me, I said now!”

Stiles was now sobbing as the air grew colder, sliding down the door with one last bang. “I said no!”

The door opened and Stiles stood up and grinned, but his smile faded as Arnold stood with arms crossed, stood behind him was Johnny and Mark, along with the other kids, all grinning and smirking. 

“P-please don’t kick me out. I didn’t offer they asked me.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s lying.”

Arnold grinned as he turned to face the other kids, “What do you say?”

“Kick him out!”

“Don’t let him back!”

Arnold turned to face Stiles who was now on his knees begging, praying that he would reconsider. “Sorry boy, you’re out.” Was all he said before slamming the door one last time, Stiles was now hysterical as he clawed at the door. What seemed like hours passed before he finally stopped crying, stanidn up his bones ached from being sat in the same passion. He took to wondering the streets, nothing to his name. Well he had his Dad’s watch on his wrist and the clothes on his back but that was it.  
He wondered through town for hours, he couldn’t go to Scott; they’d lost touch so long ago as Stiles was never allowed to make phone calls or go to his. He found himself outside of a pawn shop, he couldn’t sell his watch, it was all he had left of his Dad. But all he could think was how much the money would help, by him food and maybe enough to find a place to stay, it cost $500 dollars after all. 

He took a deep breath as he made his way inside, tempted to turn around and leave but he didn’t. He made his way over to the counter and smiled as he unfastened the watch. “H-Hey I’d like to sell my watch?”

The man behind the counter looked up, a fat old man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a glass of whiskey beside him. He picked up the watch and gave it a quick look over. “$30”

Stiles’ jaw dropped open upon hearing the words, was this guy taking the piss out of him? “That’s my Dad’s watch my Mom paid $500 for it!”

“$32 or nothing”

Stiles couldn’t believe he was doing this, he was hoping wherever his parents where they’d forgive him for this. “Ok.”

The man grabbed the watch and opened the register, taking out a few crinkled notes and some loose change and handing it to Stiles. The boy took it and left without a thank you, robbing bastard didn’t deserve one. He walked a little more until he found a dinner, rushing in and ordering a cheeseburger and fries, God he was starving. He finished his food minutes after it was given to him, he paid but felt awful for not leaving a tip because the girl really was sweet. But what would he say ‘sorry no tip for you Mandy I’m homeless’

He left the dinner and continued to wonder, it soon dawned on him again that he had nowhere to go, he found himself by the really gritty and dirty end of beacon Hills, the docks. He always remembered overhearing on the police radio that there was some sort of crime happening by the docks but he wasn’t sure what it was. He wondered around seeing all kind of scum, in one corner there was a man selling crates of illegal looking wine to obvious alcoholics. Dog fights and gambling, terrified he pulled up his hood and tried to avoid eye contact. Just beside the docks was a gay bar, a sleazy little dive that reeked of strong vodka and weed. He realised something, this was still a part of the gay district in Beacon Hills. 

“Hey boy” Stiles heard from behind him, he turned frightened to see a man standing, ushering him over. “That’s a nice set of nashers!”

Stiles didn’t know what he meant until he realised he meant his brace, “Erm thanks?”

“You know what my trade is?”

Stiles was still scared, shaking his head unable to say no. “My expertise is recycling orthodontics, braces, retainers and fillings and such. I know a few who’d pay well for your brace.”

Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was this guy asking Stiles to rip out his brace to give him? “No way”

The man grabbed him, “Don’t touch me, and leave me alone!”

“Look kid I’ll pay you $300 for the top brace!”  
Stiles stopped struggling in that minute, $300 could really change his situation, he needed money and desperately. “You’ll pay me? Right now?”

“After I’ve took them out don’t worry, come on into my laboratory!”

Stiles was almost sick as he entered the crook in the wall, inside a dim light and an old chair, on a table beside it was his equipment. “I’ll pay you double for the bottom one?”

Stiles nodded as he got into the chair, but the minute he did he changed him mind, going to stand up the man forced him back down, strapping his arms tot hr chair. “What the fuck no let me go/”

“The more you wriggle, the less you giggle” said the man as he grabbed a mouth harness; it was like something from a bondage porno used to keep the guys mouth open. As Stiles struggled the man forced open his mouth, clamping on the harness, tears streaming down his cheek. No anaesthetic, not even a shot of vodka to numb the pain. The man kept smiling as he picked up a thing pair of pliers, shoving them into Stiles’ mouth as he broke the fixtures of the brace, Stiles tried to scream in pain but it was muffled, the only thing he could do was groan in agony as he cried. He gagged as the man pulled out the metal fixture, muffled pleas for him to stop. He did the same again with the bottom brace, his jaw in agony. He placed both on a small silver tray before unstrapping Stiles, grabbing his jaw as if to protect it from further harm. 

“P-please c-can I have my money now?” he asked trying not to vomit, blood pouring from his mouth. The man turned and pulled out a few notes from his pocket handing them to Stiles, the boy quickly counted and was almost sick again. “There’s only $100 you promised me $600!”

“They aren’t as sparkling as I was hoping.” He grinned as he grabbed Stiles by the neck, dragging him out into the street and slamming the door. Yet again Stiles had found himself banging on a door begging for it to open, “Please I need that money, please!”

A few days had passed and Stiles was still at the docks, sleeping in any nook or granny that wasn’t already occupied. He’d found an old blanket in a trash can thinking he had struck gold, but it was decorated with holes and stains. He took it none the less, it would help keep him a little warm. 

He would sit and watch the filth wondering around the docks, drugs, fights, and prostitution. These were the kind of gay people you didn’t see at Pride or on TV, these were the criminals. Yeah they weren’t bad people because they were gay, that just happened to be who they were. 

He had found himself hidden behind some barrels, wrapped tightly in his blanket as he watched boys no older than him seducing the old drunks into bending them over for cash. Watching him from afar were a group of these lads, whispering and chattering in their ripped and tarnished clothes, most of them wearing revealing vests and denim shorts.

An older man of about thirty came over to them, as he stepped closer they greeted him with respect. He was a tall man with light stubble and a great physique. “Well, who’s that boys?”

“He’s new. Sold him brace to the dentist.”

“No family and nowhere to go.”

“Just how I like them, come on boys” said the man as he walked over to Stiles, the group of boys following him like puppies. He was slowly beginning to drift off before the group of lads surrounded him, frightened and stunned he tried to back himself into a corner, one of the boys lowered himself to his level. “Alright my darling?”

“Wh-what do you want?”

“We want you to join our empire. Come on lovely little boy, ooh look at those lips” Said the man as he tried to stroke Stiles’ cheek, the young boy trying to pull away. The man stepped back and crossed his arms, allowing his workers to give it a shot. 

“Come on babe, why all the fuss?” asked one boy, olive skin and beautiful brown eyes, sadly framed by thick black bags. “You aren’t that better than us you know, same situation.”

“I d-I don’t want to be a rent boy!” muttered Stiles, the boy turning to the rest of them and ushering them away. “What’s your name?”

“S-Stiles.”

The boy was now sat beside him, wrapping an arm around Stiles. “I’m Danny. Look I know this isn’t the most glamorous life but it’s worth it for the money. You seem like a sweet kid babe, if you say yes I’ll look after you. I’d rather you had a little money than looking through the bins for food.”

Stiles was strangley comforted by the boys words, and he did need money he couldn’t spend a nother night eating the remains of a drunks kebab. He shivered as he nodded, Danny interlocking his fingers with his as he helped him up. Like a lost child being escorted to the lost child section of the mall the clung to Danny. The older man smiled, “Welcome to the team.”

“I’ll be looking after him ok?” spat Danny, unafraid to speak his mind in front of their pimp.

“That’s fine. I’ve got just the thing he can wear.”

Before he knew it Stiles was being forced to remove his clothes and forced into a pair of denim shorts and a red plaid shirt that was far too tight, he felt disgusting and humiliated. This was something Jessica Simpson wore in Dukes of hazard, not a sixteen year old boy. 

It was now getting dark and he and Danny stood quietly outside of the bar, the entire docks littered with drunks and criminals, the very people his father worked to rid Beacon Hills of. A man stepped out for a cigarette, he wasn’t old or discugsting like some of the others that he’d seen but you could tell he was a slime ball. He lit his cigarette and smirked at Stiles. 

“D-Danny?”

“Yeah babe?”

“H-how much do I charge?”

Danny smiled at him, this poor niave, lost little soul stood before him. “$400. No more no less”

Stiles nodded, he was strangly grateful he had Danny looking out for him. But none the less he was terrified as the man smirking began to walk over to him, his large bisceps were abviously the produce of steroids. “A new boy” he said as he grabbed Stiles waist and twisted him around, forcing his hand down his shorts to feel his ass, “Nice and tight!” he groaned against Stiles ear, the young boy wanting to cry, holding it in only just. 

“You’ll have to be a little gentle, my friends new to the game” added Danny with a sturdy voice, the man turning and nodding. “Come with me.” He spat grabbing Stiles arm, he turned to get a reassuring smile from Danny. “That’s right babe, show him what you’ve got.”

Stiles and the customer were now completely out of sight, that’s when Danny’s smile faded as he let out a tear, the poor kid, he didn’t want this, he could tell. “That’s right babe, let him have the lot.”

The customer pulled Stiles down into an alley and twisted him around, forcing him over a barrel and pulling down the shorts. The sound of Stiles’ whimpers were muted by the noise coming from the bar. A series of load groans and moans came from the customer as he ‘played’ with Stiles, without a warning or even a sound he rammed himself into Stiles, the young boy letting out a tear as he bit his lip. The customer wasn’t gentle or patient, but rough and dominant. He didn’t care for Stiles at all, he simply wanted to fuck him till he came, give him the money then leave. Stiles was thankful that he came within seconds, but he could feel it inside of him, and it made him sick. He pulled out and grabbed Stiles by the hair, forcing him to his knees and then forcing himself inside of his mouth. 

“Clean it off!”

Stiles did what he was told, taking it all and swallowing, and the minute he did he wanted to end it all then and there. Is this what his life was? Doing this just to make money?

The customer pulled up his pants and took out his wallet, taking out $400 and throwing it at Stiles stills on his knees. The minute he left the alley way Stiles threw up, a mixture of fear, regret and shame expelled itself from his system. He composed himself as he scrambled to pick up the money, making sure it was safely in his pocket. He left the alley way and re-joined Danny.

Hours passed with the same kind of customers. Days passed with some less favourable customers, one choking Stiles as he fucked him brutally. Months had now passed and Stiles was left alone, Danny being occupied by a customer. The docks were decorated in snow, and yet he was still forced to wear these horrible shorts. 

Stiles took a seat on one of the barrels, brushing the snow off before he did. He began to think in the cold still silence, was this is future? How did his life become so horrible? He remembered the dreams he’d have when he was younger. One day he’d graduate high school, go off to college and have a great carrier. Meet a great guy and have great kids and be normal.

But sadly, he dreamed that dream in time gone by. When hope was high and his life was worth living. He dreamed them back when he was young and unafraid, when dreams were made and used and wasted. He regretted wasting them so much.

But the sad reality is that customers continue to call, as the tear your hopes apart, and they turn you dream to shame. Stiles looked at his reflection in the icy puddle at his feet; he saw a shadow of himself. Eyes framed by thick black bags, his skin pale and pasty. His arms and chest covered in scratches and other parts of his body violated. It made him sick that he had become this, this whore!

He let out a few tears as he muttered to himself, head in his hands. “I had a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I’m living! So different now from what it seemed, I can’t have anything other than this now, now life has killed that dream, I dreamed.”  
As he cried sat freezing in the snow he waited, waited until finally a customer came. He recognised him as his first, smirking the same sickening smirk as the first time they met. 

“Oh I remember you, come on!” he spat as he grabbed Stiles and pulled him through an alley way and into a clearing behind the docks, the open space was dark and deserted. “Same as last time suck fuck and go?” asked Stiles.

“Oh no!” he said with a smile as he pulled out a long rubber glove. 

“W-What is that for?” asked a terrified Stiles. 

“I want to fist that tight hole of yours!”

“No way! I don’t do that!” spat Stiles as he turned to leave, the customer grabbing him and pulling him back, Stiles let out a yelp as he was pushed to the floor. The customer began to kick Stiles’ chest, the boy crying out in pain as his shin continued to collide with his. 

“HEY!” he heard from behind him, the kicking stopped as the customer ran through the alley and into the darkness. Stiles was just starting to black out when the voice grew closer and became a figure. Through fluttering eyes Stiles managed to make out a face, a stranger with short black hair, light stubble across his cheeks. His eyes were a piercing green; Stiles couldn’t help but think his two front teeth were kind of cute. Like a sexy bunny, great now he was delirious.

“You’re ok kiddo I’ve got you” spoke the voice as he picked Stiles up from the snow, carrying him through the alley ways and into his car. “W-who are you?”

“Shush try not to speak. My names Derek, I saw what happened but don’t worry I’ll look after you. I’ll take you to my place.”

“But you don’t know me!”

“I know when I see someone who needs help. Now just try and rest ok?”

Stiles gave a weak nod as he lay back in the passenger seat of this stranger’s car. For the first time in a long time this stranger wasn’t going to rape him for money. Maybe his dream wasn’t dead.


End file.
